I was about to board a flight for my first trip to Europe in 37 years. Two years earlier, I had reconnected with some of my best college friends at a 35th reunion. They lived in Europe and I had spent much of my adult life in South America, so we had lost touch during the childrearing years. For the reunion, I was at my top weight, and it had taken me months of soul-searching to build up the courage to present myself. Fortunately, I overcame my fear and isolation for the event, and we were all excited to pick up where we had left off.
After the reunion, I found FA, and now, I was almost at my goal weight, having shed 100 pounds. There was no chafing, no struggling to fit into the plane seats, no gasping for breath. The miracle was real, but I was terrified of losing my abstinence in Europe, where I associated joy with good food and wine. I was on the verge of obsession over it.
In program I had heard a lot about the theme of surrender, but I didn’t really understand the concept of surrender as it related to me. However, while preparing for this trip, I reached a place where I just became tired of obsessing. I had packed travel meals and literature, and I had sent detailed information to my hosts about my needs. Now, I sat waiting to board my first flight to Ireland, I was overcome with the need to let go. I recall saying, almost out loud, “Okay God, I give up. I can’t worry anymore. Whatever!”
When I arrived in Limerick, I stayed with a friend at an abbey who prepared delicious abstinent meals for me every single day. Next, I flew to Rotterdam to visit my best friend from college. She was on the case. She had purchased everything on my food plan, had studied the ounce to gram differences, and she educated me on every item. Having been a control freak all my life, I realized how very liberating it was to relinquish control, gratefully succumbing to someone else’s direction that was working for me.
Then together we traveled to Rome to stay with another of our good friends, and together, the two of them took over scheduling and meals. We ate in my friend’s apartment, enjoying both a fresh produce market and grocery across the street, and did most of our sightseeing in the cool evenings. We enjoyed each other’s company and caught up on life. I had been frightened about Italian restaurants, assuming I would find only alcohol, flour, and sugar. It turns out we never needed to eat out. I came to realize in time that my expat friends were accustomed to frugal living, and rather than feeling inconvenienced by my eating needs, they were relieved at not having the pressure to eat out. When visitors come from the US expecting to sample the European restaurant fare, it can really put a strain on their budgets, so this arrangement was a win-win for everybody!
There was one awkward moment when my friend living in Rome needled me to try a cocktail she had made, and she couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t even try a taste. But before I had to open my mouth, my best friend jumped up and yelled at her – “leave her alone! You have no idea what she has accomplished. YOU didn’t see her two years ago!” The ice was broken, and I felt the protection coming straight through my friend from my higher power. I relaxed thoroughly after that.
I have since returned to Europe and Central America, among other continents, and expect to do so again this year. I have learned how easy and natural it is to live abstinently in Europe; in fact, many places are even easier than traveling abstinently in the US. Visions of Italian flour and sugar products have faded away. Mostly, I get to practice surrender. I do my part – as much research and preparation as possible – and leave the rest to my higher power, trusting that there are solutions to any dilemma. Even if I cannot see the solutions right away, I have a toolbox to draw from. Faith is the foundation of these.